Memories of Times Past
by SeraphAngel
Summary: Switch and Apoc's lives before and after they were freed—before Neo.
1. The Ugly Duckling

Author's Note: This is my first Matrix fic. I don't know why I wrote this, but the idea just came to me, so I'm using it. I noticed that most Matrix fics center around Trinity and Neo or some added-in character. I'm not saying those are bad; many are quite good, actually. Ack! Anyway, I decided to show the views of two other crewmembers aboard the Nebuchadnezzar. 

P.S. Sorry if any facts or stuff from the movie isn't right. 

Title: Memories of Times Past

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Some later, maybe. Of course, it's a movie, so you should have seen it before reading about it...

Summary: Switch and Apoc's lives before and after they were freed—before Neo. 

Disclaimer: If I owned the movie, do you think I'd be wasting my time doing this?

Setting: This story is set before the movie, of course. 

*** = setting change

__

italics = thoughts

__

italics = emphasis

~The Ugly Duckling~

*Switch's Point of View*

I grew up thinking I was the ugliest girl in the whole world. I felt like the ugly duckling among a bunch of beautiful swans. How was I supposed to know that one man would change all that? How was I supposed to know that one man would make me feel like the queen of those swans? How was I supposed to know that one man would change my whole world?

***

I was "born" in the Matrix, as most humans are. My mother was pretty enough to have been a halfway decent model. She wasn't as beautiful as some, but better looking than most average women. I always thought that my mother didn't like me. Oh, she loved me, sure, otherwise she wouldn't have kept me around. Yet, somehow, I knew she didn't like me. I felt that she was ashamed of me. She was forever trying to change my appearance, to change who I was. Maybe if she hadn't tried to change me, I wouldn't have turned out the way I did. She didn't like taking me to public places. She didn't want people to know that she was the mother of such an ugly child. Throughout my childhood, I tried desperately to get my mother to accept me, but to no avail. 

My father was a whole different story. He knew and accepted who I was. He loved me unconditionally, and I loved him for that. Then he died. I was six at the time, not old enough to have known everything about him, but old enough to have _some _memories. From then on, my mother got more and more distant. Sometimes, we didn't talk to each other for days at a time.

My life was a living nightmare during my early years of school. Nobody liked me. Some kid had pronounced me "Cootie Girl" in kindergarten, and I was stuck with that name until the beginning of fourth grade. Apparently, since I had cooties, no one wanted to get near me. The students that my teachers put next to me shifted their desks away from mine. Kids called me names and pulled my hair, which was longer then than it is now. I cried almost every night. Part of that was caused by the loss of my father. Yet another part of that was caused by my unreachable mother. Still, most of it was caused by the torture I went through every day, trying to get an education. 

Life at school got a little better during the next three years of elementary school. People still didn't like me very much, but at least they stopped openly showing it. My home life had not gotten better, though. If anything, it had gotten worse. My mother started dating again when I was nine. She went out almost every night and didn't come back until the early hours of the morning. She almost always came back a little drunk and sometimes more. I still don't know how she managed to get to work everyday. In those times, I felt like I had lost two parents instead of one. 

My mom had a steady boyfriend when I was in sixth grade. Roger despised me. He was nice to me in front of Mom, but anyone could tell it was an act. Anyone, that is, except my mother. She thought he was crazy about me. The truth was, he didn't want me around. I hated him. 

My mother tried to change me whenever she wasn't either at work or with Roger. She kept trying to get me to reach some standard of beauty of hers that was simply unimportant to me. She didn't take me to get my hair cut often—she only took me so I could get trims from time to time while she had her hair styled. She wanted my hair to be long in hopes that it would make me prettier. She tried to get me interested in makeup. She bought me tons of dresses and stylish clothes. I didn't want all that. I didn't want the hair ribbons, or the lipstick, or the poofy dresses. I just wanted my mother. I wanted her to love me the way my father had. I didn't want my mom to give me stuff because she thought I was ugly and needed improvement. Frankly, I didn't care what I looked like. Not anymore. I had begun to hate my mother's obsession with beauty. _She_ was beautiful, her boyfriend was handsome, but her daughter was nothing special to look at.

It was during sixth grade that I finally started thinking for myself. I was growing up and I was going to do what I wanted, instead of what my mother wanted. One day, I was standing in front of my full-length mirror, looking at my hair. It was long and straight and perfect, and I hated it. It represented my mother's dislike for me. It represented the fact that she couldn't, or wouldn't, accept me for me, as a good, loving mother should. That day, I made a decision. Mom wouldn't like it, but I didn't care. Besides, that was precisely the reason why I was doing this. I was beginning not to care about anything anymore. 

At school, I was impatient. I wanted to just get through the day so I could do what I had decided to do. Finally, the last bell rang, and I ran out of the classroom. I kept running until I reached the street, out of breath. Usually, I walked straight home after school, but today I was going to make a short stop along the way. When I reached my destination, I took a deep breath, then opened the door. I looked around as I entered. People were sitting in barber chairs getting their hair cut. Some women were seated beneath the hairdryers. Other men and women were sitting in the waiting area, flipping through magazines. A young woman approached me. "Are you lost, little girl?" I read her nametag. Rhonda, it said. "No, I'm not lost," I replied. "I'd like to get a haircut."

"All right, then," she replied. "How are you planning to pay?"

I showed her the cash I had brought with me. I had taken some of my allowance money, what little of it there was, to pay for this.

"Well, why don't you wait until a chair opens up, okay?"

I nodded and sat down in the waiting are. After about ten minutes, one of the barbers ushered me to the chair she was working at. "How would you like it?" she asked.

"Short," I replied. I flapped a hand toward the area around my neck. "Around there." I watched as long strands of blond hair fell to the floor. When she was finished, I inspected her work in the mirror. The ends of my hair were now above my shoulders. I smiled. _Perfect,_ I thought to myself. This would show my mother. She would never try to change me again. I picked up my bookbag and headed home.

I met my mom at the door when she got home from work. She screamed when she saw me. Her purse and keys dropped to the floor, forgotten. She rushed to my side and touched my hair. It was great to see her freaking out like this. "Oh, what have you done?" she wailed.

"I thought my hair was too long," I said matter-of-factly. "Don't you like it?" I scooped up her purse and keys and handed them to her. "Hmm?" I asked. "You still haven't told me what you think."

"I think..." she said as she accepted her things, "I think it looks... fine."

"Really?"

"Uh huh," she answered. She was obviously lying through her clenched teeth. "But uh, next time, please get my permission before you do anything like this."

"Sure," I said, having no intention at all of doing that. It didn't matter for the time being. I was satisfied. My mom could not do anything now. There wasn't anything _anyone _could do to restore my formerly waist-length hair. Never again would my mother control me as she had for so long.

Mom and Roger got married the summer after sixth grade. I was not in the wedding. I think they were relieved that I wasn't involved in it. Part of the reason why I refused to take part in the ceremony was because I didn't want her to marry Roger. He didn't like me, and I knew that the moment he became my stepfather, he would make my life even more miserable than it already was. If I had supported my mother's decision, it would have been like betraying my father. 

The wedding was beautiful, and I loathed every minute of it. Roger could never replace my father. My father loved me; Roger did not. My father knew who I was and accepted me; Roger did not. Somehow, I knew that my life was going to change and I was not going to like it. 

When I was twelve, in seventh grade, I developed my first crush. At that time, I was going through a growth spurt. I got taller and skinnier, but I didn't... develop... much. I still felt that I wasn't pretty. I had no interest in makeup and didn't care much about fashion. Paul was the cutest guy in seventh grade and the most popular. I liked him a lot, but he didn't know I existed. A lot of other girls liked him—I knew I'd never have a chance with him. I figured I'd just let my crush run it's course, and I'd eventually get over him. 

One cold day in December, Paul came up to me at lunch and asked quietly, "Can I talk to you for a sec?" I checked behind me to make sure he wasn't talking to someone else. No one was there. I turned back to him and nodded, dazed. I let him lead me to a quiet area without a lot of people around. He cleared his throat and started speaking. "Would you like to go to the Christmas dance with me?" I was shocked. I pinched myself to see if it was a dream. It hurt, so this was definitely real! I couldn't believe it. Was he kidding me? Did I want to go with him... Of course I did! I said yes automatically. He smiled and said, "All right. Pick you up at seven." I gave him my address and phone number. He ran back to his friends, while I walked off in the opposite direction, still not completely believing what had just happened. 

Soon, it was the day of the dance. My mother had been very pleased when she found out who I was going with. After all, the most popular and good-looking guy in school couldn't be wrong about me, could he? My mom had even bought me a dress and everything. She tried to get me to put some makeup on, but I would only accept lip gloss and clear nail polish. 

The doorbell rang. I ran downstairs to answer it. I took a few deep breaths before opening the door. "Hey, Paul," I greeted him. 

"Hey," he answered. "Ready?"

"Yup." I grabbed my coat and walked outside, closing the door behind me. Paul's dad was waiting for us in the car. When we got in, he started the engine, and we were on our way to school, where the dance was being held. 

After we got there, Paul and I entered the gym together. A lot of streamers and cheap paper and plastic decorations were on the walls. Paul went to get me some punch while I looked around the room. After that, the music started and we danced. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. I mean I was inches away from the guy of my dreams! What more could I ask for?

After one of the songs ended, Paul and I sat on the bottom row of the bleachers, exhausted from dancing so much. Some of his friends were close by. He glanced at them, then scooted closer to me. I tried not to show my nervousness about the fact that his face was mere inches from mine. He turned my head so I was facing him, then he leaned in. My eyelids slid shut as he kissed me. I was too occupied at the time to notice that Paul's friends were hooting and hollering. I was shocked at the total neutrality of the kiss. I didn't feel anything. Where were the fireworks? Where was the magic? The kiss felt empty, lacking passion and feeling. It felt rushed, like he wanted to get it over with. He pulled away as quickly as he had swooped in. He turned to his group of friends. "Where's my hundred bucks?" he asked eagerly. 

I stared at him, disbelieving. Money? He asked me to go to the dance with him for a lousy hundred dollars? My first kiss wasn't even real. I pushed Paul away from me and ran out of the gym. I stopped running when I reached a nearby park. I was exhausted from running and sick to my stomach from the knowledge of what had just taken place. I sank down onto a park bench, crying. How could he have done this to me? I thought he had really liked me. It turned out that he was just using me to prove himself to his friends and earn some quick cash while he was at it. What a jerk! And what a fool I was to believe that he _actually_ liked me. 

That's when it started to rain. Great! That was the last thing I needed. Now my dress was soaked, and I was freezing. Why hadn't I remembered to grab my coat on the way out? Sitting there, cold, wet, and miserable, I reached a decision. At that moment, I swore to myself that I would never show weakness like that again. No man would ever take advantage of me. It was kind of like swearing off men. I didn't want to get hurt again. I think I toughened up then, grew some armor. I hardened my heart. I wasn't going to let anyone get close to me again. Ever. 

I didn't feel like getting home right away, so I just sat there, not caring if I developed pneumonia from the cold. I guess I dozed off then, because the next thing I knew, the rain had stopped and the sky was very, very dark. Wonderful. I was soaking wet, dead tired, and had no way of getting home. I wondered what time it was.

Having no other method of transportation, I started walking in the direction of my house. I trudged along for an hour, shivering.

When I finally got home, it was 2:00 a.m. Mom and Roger were still up. Roger, who was probably more than a little drunk, started yelling at me. "As long as you're under my roof, you will obey my rules, and my rule is that you are home before 10:30!"

__

His roof? It was more my roof than his. He hadn't bought the house. He hadn't lived in that house his whole life. What made him think it was his? Just because he married my mom didn't mean that he was my father. That morning, at 2:11 a.m., I knew that I truly hated him. 

During the next few years, I got more and more distant from my so-called "parents." I got more interested in computers. They were something I could get involved with that would take me away from everything else. I could just concentrate on a computer and not worry or think about anything else. 

Then, when I was fifteen, I discovered something on the Internet. It was something about the "Matrix." The only matrices I had ever dealt with were in Algebra, and this was clearly not about mathematics. I was intrigued. I tried to find out more about it. There wasn't a lot of information about it, and whatever I did find disappeared soon after I discovered it. One thing I noticed was that whenever there was information about the Matrix, someone named "Morpheus" seemed to be involved. 

I learned all about computers, and soon I was an experienced hacker. The name I went by was "Switch." I met other hackers over the Internet, and one day, we arranged to meet each other. I knew it was dangerous and that these people might not be who they seemed, but I figured that meeting these people was better than staying at home with Mom and Roger. Luckily for me, they _were_ who they seemed to be. They were all around my age and wanted as badly as I did to find out what the Matrix was. We started hanging out together.

After two years of research, I still didn't know exactly what the Matrix was. I spent all my free time trying to figure it out. My grades started slipping. Mom and Roger got mad at me for that. Roger came close to hitting me several times. When it came time for my report cards to come out, I hacked into the school's system to change my grades. If I flunked and didn't graduate, I'd never get away from the house that was no longer mine. 

Our "gang" did some illegal stuff. Mostly, we stole computer equipment. Our stuff wasn't good enough. We had to have the best in order to figure out the Matrix. I was usually the lookout. One day, they gave me a gun. I was a surprisingly good shot. I never actually shot anyone though.

I graduated from high school and moved out when I was eighteen. I lived in an apartment with one of my friends and attended a community college. I really only paid attention when technology was mentioned. Pretty much all of my free time was spent with the gang trying to find out what the Matrix was.

Then, one fateful night, Morpheus contacted me. There wasn't any time to get the others, so I went alone. I stood there on the sidewalk of a street that didn't get much traffic. A car appeared and stopped in front of me. 

"Get in."

So I did. There was a guy driving the car, a girl about my age sitting in the front seat, and a guy sitting beside me, the one who had told me to get in. 

We got out of the car in front of this old, abandoned building. The three people in the front led me to a room with huge doors. I entered alone.

"Morpheus?"

"Yes." 

Morpheus was impressive. He seemed to exude power. 

"So you can tell me what the Matrix is."

Morpheus said to me, "First, you must choose." He held out both of his hands. "If you take the blue pill, you stay here and don't get any answers. If you take the red pill, you will discover the truth."

I looked down for a moment, considering. Mom. Roger. My stupid education. I hadn't had the best life in the world. How bad could whatever Morpheus and his gang had to tell me be? I had waited for years to find out what the Matrix was. Here was my chance. What did I have to lose?

I reached for the red pill.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note: Um… If you like this, review. If you don't like it, then review too. Just don't be so mean about it… 


	2. Typical

Author's Note: Okay, let's see how you like this part.

Title: Memories of Times Past

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Some later, maybe. Of course, it's a movie, so you should have seen it before reading about it...

Summary: Switch and Apoc's lives before and after they were freed—before Neo. 

Disclaimer: If I owned the movie, do you think I'd be wasting my time doing this?

Setting: This story is set before the movie, of course. 

*** = setting change

__

italics = thoughts

__

italics = emphasis

~Typical~

*Apoc's Point of View*

I didn't care for my "life" in the Matrix. My life right now isn't great either, but at least I'm free. When the mystery of the Matrix made an appearance in my life, I welcomed it. How could I possibly know that figuring out the Matrix would lead me to find one of the best things in my dreary existence? How could I know?

*** 

My mother abandoned my father and me when I was five. Why? I don't know. Dad never had anything to good to say about her after she left. I can only remember a few things about her. 

Anyway, after she left, Dad started drinking. Half of the time, he didn't even go to work (I still can't figure out how he never got fired). He always had a terrible hangover. Most of my memories of him are of him being drunk in front of the TV. In other words, my family life was crappy. Sometimes Dad would get so drunk that he would hurt me. I tried to convince myself that it wasn't him, that it was just the alcohol, but I knew, deep down, that the violence had to come from somewhere. 

I was a pretty average student in school. I was just like everyone else. I was no one special, and I didn't care. The only thing I was good at was logical stuff. That and P.E. I could figure puzzles out faster than anyone else I knew could. Little did I know that that ability would serve me well in the future. 

When I was eleven, my dad lost his job. He had some money in a bank (most of it from when he and my mom were still together), but I knew that he would use it for beer and food. My dad didn't care about anything. He knew that there was something wrong with him, but he didn't care, just like I didn't care that I didn't care that my dad was having problems. That was the one thing I inherited from my father—my indifference. 

On my thirteenth birthday, my dad was out of town (I can't remember why). Anyway, I was staying at home by myself for a few days. I had just plopped down in front of the TV when the doorbell rang. I groaned and went to answer it. 

I opened the door and saw a woman there. She wasn't pretty, but she wasn't ugly either. Average. Like me. At first, I couldn't figure out who she was. Then I looked at her face. At her eyes. They looked so familiar. They looked like—they looked like the eyes that I saw whenever I bothered to look in a mirror. "Mom," I said, stunned. 

"You recognize me?"

"Yeah."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, I.. guess."

She walked into the house and seated herself at the kitchen table. I stayed standing. "I imagine you have some questions for me," she said. 

"Yeah. Like 'what are you doing here?'"

"I just thought I'd come by for a visit."

"A _visit_? You left—you left _me_—eight years ago and now you're back to 'visit'?"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe you."

"Honey—"

"Where have you been?"

"Around."

"Around where?"

"The country. I moved to California. The weather's nice there."

"You abandoned me for nice weather? Do you know how bad it's been since you left? Dad is constantly passed out drunk over there, and I—sometimes he hurts me."

"Honey, I'm sorry."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"What else can I say? Your father is your father. There's nothing I can do about that."

"Why did you leave me?"

She closed her eyes for a second, then looked back up at me. "I thought—I thought I could handle it. But I couldn't. Being a wife—being a mother—I couldn't do it. So one day, I just packed my bags—"

"—and left," I finished for her.

She looked down. "Yeah."

"How could you do that to me?"

"I don't have an answer for that."

"Then you might as well leave, because I don't need you. Not anymore."

"Sweetie—"

"No! You lost the right to call me that the day you walked out on us—on me!" I was so angry right then. My mother had basically just told me that she abandoned me on a whim. "Just get out!"

"But—"

"No! I don't want to see you again! Go away! I hate you!"

She gave me this look then, a really sad one. "Okay, if that's what you want." Then she left, saying, "I love you."

I just stood there for a few minutes, gripping the edge of the table to keep myself up. I remember thinking, _Typical_. _If she loves me so much, then why did she leave? Again! I don't need her. I don't need someone who doesn't care enough about me to even try to contact me—for eight years, no less! She's not my mother. Real mothers don't do that to their kids. I don't need my dad, either. He's a stupid drunk who doesn't even try to do anything meaningful. I don't need anyone. _

I think that was the point in my life when I stopped caring. 

After that day, I usually stayed out after school until I absolutely had to go home. Sometimes if I had some change, I'd go to the arcade and play games. I liked the shooting games the best. I turned out to be pretty good at them too. I didn't know that would be important, either. 

One day (when I was fifteen, almost sixteen) at school, I met this guy named Alan. He was new at school and he invited me over to his house. I figured, _What the heck_? So I went. 

Turns out the boy had a computer. He let me try it out and I poked around and did some stuff. I didn't really know how to use a computer yet. My so-called father used any extra money that we had to buy beer and stuff. Over the course of the next year, Alan and I got to be pretty good friends. I went to his house—almost everyday—to hang out and sometimes I would mess around on the computer. His parents were nice, too. His mother especially, always with the cookies.

Before I met Alan, I thought that I didn't need anyone at all. But then, once we became friends, I realized that I did need a friend. I never told him my deepest fears or my hopes and dreams or anything specific about my "family". Nothing that deep. I just needed someone to hang out with. But I think that somehow he knew my life was messed up. Sometimes I would catch him looking at me like he could see through me. It felt like he could see everything I felt, everything I wanted, everything I hated. It was kind of scary. But then, Alan always was a little on the strange side. Still, I knew that he could be a real best friend, someone I could trust, someone I could confide in. But I didn't tell him everything, because that's not the kind of person I was. I'm still not like that.

Anyway, a year and a half after I met him, I discovered something strange. Something called the "Matrix". I don't know what happened after that. I just kept going over to my best friend's house and turning on his computer and trying to figure out what the Matrix was. 

I had started going to a community college. When I was nineteen, I got my own computer with the money from my job (it cost me a lot). It wasn't a very good computer, but I didn't care. I just needed one so I could figure out the Matrix. 

And one day, I did. Someone called Morpheus contacted me. He told me to meet some people in an alley somewhere. I wasn't sure that was such a good idea, but for some reason, I went. 

I was standing at the end of the alley when a car pulled up. Someone told me to get in, and I did. A girl about my age was sitting next to me, and a guy was driving the car. 

The car pulled up in front of a building. The two led me inside and into a room to meet Morpheus. 

Morpheus told me to choose between a blue pill and a red pill—to live in ignorance or to learn the truth about the Matrix. 

I chose the red one. 

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note: I know I haven't updated this in like, half a year, and I'm sorry… I was just… busy… and high school… and SAT classes during the summer… hectic. Please review (if I still have any readers left).


	3. Reality

Author's Note: All right… I've taken way too long to update this fic… Sorry… Many, _many _apologies! Oh, by the way, this chapter has a spoiler for _The Matrix Reloaded. _

Title: Memories of Times Past

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Some later, maybe. Of course, it's a movie, so you should have seen it before reading about it...

Summary: Switch and Apoc's lives before and after they were freed—before Neo. 

Disclaimer: If I owned the movie, do you think I'd be wasting my time doing this?

Setting: This story is set before the movie, of course. 

*** = setting change

__

italics = thoughts

~Reality~

*Switch's Point of View*

I woke up, finding myself in a bunch of gooey stuff. _What the…?_ There were all these tubes sticking into me. Suddenly, they released me, and I struggled to breathe.

Then, somehow, I got sucked into a tube or something. Before I could even scream or anything, I went whooshing around who-knows-where. Then—

*** 

I woke up (again). I looked at myself and saw that I was wearing raggedy clothes. I looked around.

There was a guy about my age sitting a few feet away from me. He was the one who had told me to get into the car that took me to Morpheus, but he looked different. His clothes were of much poorer quality than the clothes he had been wearing before. 

"Where are we?" I asked him. 

"Morpheus will explain everything to you. He's busy right now. I was just supposed to be watching you until you woke up," he replied. 

"Oh." My head hurt. I reached up a hand to touch it, and realized that I was bald. "What happened to my hair?"

"Don't worry. It'll grow." He gestured to the top of his own head. 

I nodded. It didn't matter about my hair, really. I was glad it was gone, just like my mother was. I put a hand behind my neck. A metal hole was there… _This is one crazy situation I've gotten yourself into, _I thought_._ I glanced at the guy. Might as well make the best of this. "I'm… Switch."

"Apoc." He had been looking at the floor, but now he was looking at me. 

I asked, "So what is the Matrix, really?"

"I'm not the right person to ask. I don't understand it too well yet."

I nodded. The two of us were silent for a few minutes. 

Then the door opened, and Morpheus came into the room. 

"Switch?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel?"

"Not that great."

Apoc stood up. "That's how we all feel," he said.

"Come with me, Switch," Morpheus said. 

I got up and followed him as he showed me around the ship, introducing me to people. I met Trinity, who had been "unplugged" from the Matrix about a year ago. I discovered that Apoc had only been freed about two or three months ago. I met Tank and Dozer, the brothers who had been born in the real world. I met many people that day, most of them like me, with holes in their bodies. 

After the introductions, Morpheus talked to me alone. He tried to explain what the Matrix was and what he and his comrades did. They wanted to free the people in the Matrix so that they would understand the truth. I still wasn't entirely sure what he was talking about, but he said that was okay. I would understand soon enough. 

After a while, I got hungry. Morpheus took me to the mess hall. 

"What the hell is this?" I asked, referring to the colorless goop on the table in front of me. 

Dozer gave me his scientific explanation. I was not impressed. And I was beginning to think that maybe it hadn't been such a great idea to take the red pill. 

*** 

I started training the next day. I learned all the boring stuff first. Then Tank started me on combat training. I wasn't that good at it, but I wasn't terrible at it either. Still, I didn't feel competent at anything until I experienced a training simulation in which I had a gun. 

Morpheus wanted to see how I handled myself with a gun, so the two of us entered the simulation together. I was rather good at it, I think. I was able to hit stationary targets, moving targets, swift targets, everything. I guess Morpheus thought so too, because he said to me, "You're a natural with a firearm." 

"Thanks." 

"Freeze it." 

The program froze. 

Morpheus looked at me. "You have an aptitude for this. Just like Apoc." 

"Apoc?" I echoed.

"Yes, he has the same talent that you have." He studied me. "I think you'll make a good lookout." 

*** 

A week later, I was in my quarters, not doing much of anything, when I heard my name being called. 

"Switch." 

I looked up. Apoc was standing just outside the chamber. "What do you want?" I asked. 

"You busy?" he asked, not put off at all. 

"No. Why?" I answered coldly. 

"I wanted to know if you wanted to eat with me." 

I raised an eyebrow. 

"Well, it's no fun eating in the mess all alone," he said. "Better to have company, don't you think?" 

I wanted to tell him off, but I stopped myself. This was a strange new reality. Who knew when I might need friends? "Fine," I said, walking toward him. "But don't except me to say much. I hate small talk."

Apoc just nodded and smiled slightly. 

*** 

Trinity came into the mess hall just as Apoc and I finished our "lunch."

"Hey." She sat down next to me, across from Apoc. 

"Hey." 

"We have to report to Morpheus," she said. 

"Now?" Apoc asked. 

"Soon. Finish eating first. You'll need your energy." Trinity looked significantly at the two of us. "We're going into the Matrix."

*** 

Once we were assembled, Morpheus filled us in. The target was a teenage girl whom Morpheus had been in contact with for a few days. 

Niobe came with us. She and Morpheus had an argument about it first, but she won. 

Once we were all there, we set out in search of the girl, who was on the run. The agents were on her tail, and we needed to get to her before they did. 

When we got to the building where the girl was hiding, Niobe gave us instructions. "I'll go in and talk to her," she said. "Switch and Apoc, you stay here and keep a lookout. Trinity, come with me." 

Trinity followed her inside. 

I turned my head away from Apoc to watch for any signs of danger. When I glanced back in his direction, however, I found that he was staring at me. "What?" I asked, slightly irritated. 

"Are you always this professional?" he asked mildly. 

"I try to be," I answered shortly.

He made another attempt at conversation. "What made you pick the name Switch?" 

I thought about it. "I guess I just wanted to switch my life off and get a better one." I paused. "Plus, the people I used to hang out with said that when I was at a computer, I would just switch into another mode." 

Addressing my earlier comment, he asked, "What was so terrible in your life?" 

I opened my mouth to reply, but I didn't get a chance to, because the door behind us suddenly flew open. Trinity, Niobe, and the girl, Dysk, came out. 

"Let's go," Niobe said. 

*** 

Two minutes later, the five of us were running our tails off. 

"What—what's going on?" Dysk asked, panting. "Who—what are—?"

"Agents," Niobe replied. "Let's just say they're not very nice." 

"This place is too damn crowded!" Trinity yelled. "They could be anywhere!" 

"Just run!" 

I heard gunshots. 

"Hell," Apoc said, turning his head quickly to look behind him. "Switch!" 

I glanced at him. 

"Behind that dumpster," he said. "Turn and shoot." 

We made an abrupt turn and began firing at the agents. After we'd gotten them, we caught up to Trinity, Niobe, and Dysk. 

Dysk must have been getting tired, because after a little while, she began lagging behind. 

I turned to see how she was doing and saw an agent right behind her! He was off to her right a little bit, so I took my chances and fired. My aim was off, though, and I didn't hit him. "Damn," I muttered. "Missed."

Before I could call for assistance or do anything else, the agent snapped the girl's neck.

I kept running. I told the others what happened, and we ran to where we were supposed to meet Morpheus. We burst into the room where Morpheus and some of the other crewmembers were waiting. 

"What happened?" Morpheus demanded. "Where is she?" 

"We lost her," Trinity gasped. "We have to get out of here. They're coming." 

One by one, we each left the Matrix and awoke on the Nebuchadnezzar. 

Niobe went to her quarters in silence. Trinity looked down at the floor, also very quiet. Apoc stared at the back of Tank's head. And I, not knowing where else to look, looked at Morpheus. 

"It was myfault," I said. "If I hadn't missed—"

"Switch, in this line of work, some people are bound to be lost," Morpheus said. "It's saddening, but we have to accept it and move on. Blaming yourself—or anyone else—isn't going to help." 

*** 

A few weeks later, Morpheus called us once again to enter the Matrix. 

"Switch, Apoc." Morpheus stood before us. "I'm taking you to see the Oracle." He looked at Trinity. "Trinity, you'll come along too, in case there's any trouble."

Trinity nodded, glancing at me and Apoc. 

*** 

So we went to see the Oracle. Apoc went in first. Trinity, Morpheus, and I seated ourselves in the waiting room. 

I asked Trinity, "The Oracle—did you see her too?" 

"Yes," she replied. 

"What did she tell you?" 

"I'd rather not say."

From the other side of her, Morpheus said, "The Oracle is very wise. You'll see that when you meet her."

We were silent until Apoc came out. He looked at me a little strangely as I got up and he took my place. 

"Hello, Switch," said the old woman as I entered the room. 

"You're the Oracle."

"My, but you're observant, aren't you?" She nodded toward the chair in front of me. "Care to sit down?" 

I sat. "Why am I here?" I asked. 

"You know why you're here," she answered. "You hope that I'll say something profound that will make your life less miserable. Sorry, hon." She smiled apologetically. 

"Just tell me what you have to say." 

"Love hasn't done anything but hurt you," she said. "You don't have much faith in its power. You and he are very alike when it comes to love."

"He?" I asked, puzzled. 

The Oracle grinned. "Don't worry. You'll figure it out. Look, you and I both know that you aren't the most important person in the world. You won't be as appreciated as much as you should be. Still, you'll make a difference. One person in particular will be greatly affected by your presence." 

"Who?" I asked. 

She lit a cigarette. "If I told you, that would ruin the surprise, now wouldn't it?" 

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note: I hope that was good… 


End file.
